Missteps
by Veil of Shadows
Summary: Thousands of times, Grune and Schwartz fought. Thousands of worlds fell into darkness in the process. Five that failed, and why.


I.

The sky is a brilliant blue today, untainted by any clouds (_a hopeful day_, he would say, _a day for adventuring_, and maybe it is--or should be, maybe she could just--)

"Hey." The store owner cuffs her lightly on the shoulder. "Dreaming dreams?"

She thinks she's learned the trick of this by now, how to be a big enough idiot that you don't know _when _to stop smiling. "Well, you know. I've got big plans!"

"Well--" he catches her eye and grins indulgently-- "make plans on your own time, okay? You're supposed to be stocking shelves."

She grins back. "Cold, boss."

(He doesn't believe her, she knows. But she has plans, huge plans, plans that stretch out and take up the sky. There is still a notebook under her bed, waiting for her perusal.

She _does _have plans. But somehow, she never does get around to doing anything about them.)

---

II.

Once upon a time, there was a goddess who walked among her people.

She was as beautiful as she was evil, with pale skin and hair of darkest night. Where she tread, there trailed only death. She would lean down as she walked, whispering in people's ears, letting the lull of her voice work magic on their minds.

There was a man kneeling by this grave. She crouched down beside him, trailed one finger across his cheek.

"Do you want," she asked, "to bring her back?"

---

III.

She is white, white like light, white like the driven snow. He is black, black like shadows, black like a starless night. But his eyes are gentle, and his smile is warm.

He is waiting on the steps for her.

She puts one foot in front of the other, slowly, hesitantly, right, then left, then right, then left. One hand comes to rest on his shoulder. Can she do this? she wonders. Can she really, really do this?

She must.

She leans in slightly, and his eyes widen in surprise. It is the last thing she sees of him, because she has wrapped his arms around him, pulled him to her, and is kissing him, kissing _fiercely_, as though her life depended on it.

She is kissing, kissing, _sucking_, and she can't stop, can't move, can't break away until it is over and there is nothing left of him. She drops her arms and lets him fall down, down, onto the pavement, white like a faded sundress, white like an empty room.

Before she knows it, she is on her knees, resting her forehead against his, one hand tangled in his clothing. "I'm sorry," she says. "I _loved you_--" and her tears are blacked with sorrow.

---

IV.

"I have come," she says, "to avenge a wrong."

The boy looks up at her. He does not move from his position.

"I have come to exact payment for your wrongs. To bring justice to your tribe." She looks him right in the eyes. Her gaze is level. "One clan head for another. My brother...and you."

The boy stands, finally. "A fight, huh?" he says. "If that's what you want, then I'm happy to oblige." He moves to stand opposite her, in a battle stance.

A cold, bitter smile crosses her lips. "Thank you."

---

V.

Fifty-five. Fifty-six. Fifty-seven. He passes the brush through his hair again and again. Does this actually _work_? he wonders idly, before deciding it doesn't really matter. It is what's expected of him, after all. He must appear immaculate. Not one hair out of place.

"You look nice." The voice comes from behind him. "Very...pretty."

The boy does not turn his head, even slightly; he does not need to. He already knows who is speaking to him. "...thank you."

In the mirror in front of him, the man's reflection nods in acknowledgement. "The council awaits your response," the man says.

There is a long silence.

"You have _power_," he continues, lips twisting upward in a savage grin. "What are you going to do with it?"

The boy does not look behind him, but in front, towards the mirror, his gaze traveling from his master's mocking smile to his own carefully blank expression. "What...do you want me to do with it?" he says finally.

The man laughs. "A good answer."

(It is what is expected of him, after all.)


End file.
